


Even if Your Crisp Shirt (gets all wrinkled)

by tukimecca



Series: Baby, don't Like it [6]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Related, Dom/sub, Fluff, Jaehyun is gentle Dom, M/M, Nipple Play, Smut, Taeyong is pampered princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Jaehyun thinks of Taeyong’s lace blouse. It needs to go. Period.





	Even if Your Crisp Shirt (gets all wrinkled)

**Author's Note:**

> This should be steamy. Should being the key. Except I know I’m sap for Jaehyung worrying over Taeyong, and, boom!
> 
> ALSO! I did tweet that I’d want Jaehyun to wear Taeyong his sweater before the V-live, and, okay, he didn’t exactly wear his sweater, but the shirt, at some point, was worn by Jaehyun, and- eeyyy, Tuki, you and your mouth again. How many times did you ended up somehow predicting jaeyong?
> 
> Happy new year! Thanks for my absolutely amazing beta, Ms. Smith! Let’s descend into jaeyong (& wenrene) hell too, this 2018 :*
> 
> Apologize for any mistakes, timeline or place inaccuracy. Events mentioned; MBC Gaeyo Daejejun 2017/12/31

_You can let yourself go,_   
_But you can’t escape from me_ _  
_ Right now, we’ve become so listless

MOVE - Taemin

:::

Anger is familiar. It’s almost like friend.

Jaehyun knows it way too well, how it knows its way around him; twining its red, stringy limbs from the tip of Jaehyun’s toe to the peak of his head. It’s not welcomed per se, but being familiar - and at strange point; _comfortable_ \- surely has its perks, being that Jaehyun knows how to control it, too.

Nowadays, he gets around his anger rather easily, channels it into motivation instead. Granted, most of the time his anger doesn’t surface for something childish nor illogical, he is not _that_ petty. It’s rather easy to deal with when it doesn’t involve anything emotional. Stay calm, assess the situation, consider all existing factors, and he finds a way to triumph over  said ire without having to resort to throwing a hissy fit.

He might not be the best example of controlling his facial expression to hide what he belies inside, but contrary to everyone’s belief, he is the walking epitome of keeping emotion in check. It’s just that most people don’t know how ironically _familiar_ Jaehyun is with  said anger.

Like when he sees Taeyong walk out the dressing room _scantily_ clad in transparent lacey red blouse.

_What the actual fuck._

His brain short-circuits, a lot, whenever it comes to Lee Taeyong. Sometimes he still finds it hard to believe  that he _actually_ managed to get someone as gorgeous and unrealistically charming as Taeyong to submit to him. His _hyung_ is endearingly awkward while being lovingly witty at the same time. He carries himself with the grace of a queen while wearing the compelling dignity of a king. He is an exquisite contradiction that Jaehyun never tires of exploring, and this wonderful person is none other than his Sub.

His sweet little sub. He looks ravishing, always, totally. Especially so in that tantalizing lacey red blouse that Jaehyun is sure belongs in woman’s wardrobe rather than a man’s.

_What the actual fuck_.

This is not the first time he’s caught in tongue-tied, foot in the mouth situation at the sight of Taeyong’s magnificent beauty. It’s probably the hundreth twenty something, or more (definitely more), but Jaehyun doesn’t remember any of them to involve Taeyong and lacey garments. Or anything with lace in general. Or anything transparent and scandalously revealing, because, _fuck_ , _did he just see that?_

First, he’s gotta admit that the sight had his mouth watering, probably more than necessary, and a certain part of his body decides it’s the best time to _wake the fuck up_.

Jaehyun swats the thought away. Tries. And fails, miserably. He should have known, he’s the last person who could resist Taeyong’s charm. Even clad in a potato sack, he’d probably find Taeyong bewitching (especially if you considered the fact that dressed in potato sack means he’s practically naked under).

He looks like a _whole meal_ , as he had read people on the internet say. Taeyong, in Jaehyun’s opinion, always looks a lot better with dark hair. It emphasizes his large eyes - making them even more impossibly big - complements his skin tone, and hanging down like this, his fringe frames his face rather nicely. They probably used some kind of product on his hair since they look glossier than usual.

His lips are painted a flattering shade of coral pink, and Jaehyun wonders if they taste like vanilla again (the many kisses they had behind the scenes taught Jaehyun that most lip products taste like condiments, he doesn’t know why, and he’s not sure why he feels the need to remember, but maybe it is so he can differentiate the actual taste of Taeyong from the artificial one).  Nevertheless, he wants to have them stretched wet and pretty around his cock. Or kiss him, just a kiss.

Hard. Preferably. Because he looks like a fucking whole meal, and despite his successful attempt at distracting himself by thinking about the lip balm, his brain short-circuits again for the lacey, transparent blouse that practically hides _nothing_ underneath.

Nothing as in _nothing_ , because Taeyong moves, and Jaehyun swears he see the two, rosy buds he likes to lick and toy with.

His brain supplies the many images of Taeyong in the sinful, utterly distracting, red lacey blouse. Infinite legs straddling Jaehyun’s hips, his teeth digging into his blossoming bottom lip, huge, doe eyes begging. Long fingers pinching his nipples through the-

_Umm_ , this time, his mind stutters. _What the actual fuck_?

There’s cat-calls, whistles. Someone says, “good job, Noona,” and Jaehyun has the urge to douse whoever it is with bucket of icy water. Icy. Because it’s minus something degrees outside, and just because they’re indoors it doesn’t mean it’s not cold.

This is where Jaehyun snaps. Anger announces its arrival with a taunting giggle before wrapping itself around Jaehyun’s bones, climbing upward until it seizes control of his whole body. He curses mentally, clamps his jaw shut, and resolutely looks away.

Jaehyun sweepes his murderous glare toward the cluster of stylists. They sit huddled together, masks in place, playing away with their phones, totally oblivious to Jaehyun’s wrath. Which is probably good for them since Jaehyun is on the verge of believing that if any of them caught his gaze, they’d spontaneously combust for how brutal it is.

_Oh, anger, familiar, welcomed anger_. It dances in his head, savage red, a wicked smile on its black, shapeless face. It laughs in triumph, ugly, because it reigns on the dancefloor earlier than the green-eyed monster called jealousy.

It was there, too, jealousy. Possessiveness. But Jaehyun swears that the anger this time is less because everyone got to see what should be his and only his, but more because someone made a stupid decision of dressing Taeyong, who could probably get cold even if he’s huddled in thick, fluffy, electric blanket, in something so revealing.

Jaehyun prides himself on being a good Dominant, and he believes that he’s one because he has been doing a stellar job at taking care of Taeyong, at pampering his Sub and making the older feel loved. Feel good, like Taeyong is making him feel.

He’s not discrediting his sexual prowess, no, he’s just saying that if he has to weigh the two, the aftercare part will win. He studies his materials already and they all said the same thing - that what makes you a good Dominant is how well you make your Submissive feel loved, good, and respected. Which obviously includes both his excellence in bed and out of bed.

In fact, Jaehyun’s mind is already drawing scenarios, many scenarios, that he quickly sweeps to the back of his mind upon eventually looking at Taeyong with concern. He catches the dark-haired male holding his arms around himself, smiling shyly with a small frown marring his forehead, ducking his head down and, in what Jaehyun swears is an act born out of habit, makes way toward Jaehyun.

Without eventually _looking_ at or for him.

He swears that he _loves_ this man, and would _love_ to see anyone who dared to subject Taeyong into such clothing to burn in the pit of hell.

As Jaehyun catches his elbow, Taeyong lets out a small sigh of relief, loosening the hold he has around himself, and drawing himself closer to Jaehyun. Baby kitten seeking protection. Instinctively, Jaehyun wraps an arm around Taeyong’s back.

If anyone noticed  the exchange, they decided to ignore it. Good for them, because Jaehyun feels particularly murderous and the anger is still waltzing in the center of his head.

“Hyung,” he starts as soon as they’re settled in the less populated corner of the room. “The clothes. This. Are you fine? Aren’t you cold?”

Taeyong gives him an apologetic look, lips drawn together. Jaehyun hates it with burning passion of sun, because this is not Taeyong’s fault; this is the stupid, imbecile, stylist’s fault. He wants to growl in their direction for he cannot claw their eyes out, but he doesn’t because Taeyong is already shaking his head, a resigned yet comforting smile quickly creeping to his face at realising Jaehyun’s building fury. “A little, but it’s fine. It will be. It’s just for the stage, I talked to them about it. I’m not comfortable in this, and they said it’s okay if I change it later.”

“If they know you’re not comf-”

“ _Jaehyunnie_ ,” Taeyong interrupts him, pleading yet commanding at the same time. Jaehyun recoils a little. Right, Jaehyun might be the Dominant one in their relationship, but they’re not in the scene, so Taeyong is the one with cloak of authority right now. Their? leader.

It frustrates him. If Taeyong said it’s okay then that means there’s no way he’d budge. Taeyong is man of his word: once he’s made a decision, the deal is sealed. Jaehyun can _try_ , but even sometimes when he has the control in his hand, Taeyong still finds it in him to decline (of course, most of the time it only extends to matters that concern their principles when it comes to their professional job).

The anger is there again, laughing at him, mocking him. _You’re fucking powerless_ , it hisses to his ears. Fury flares under his skin. At himself, this time, not at whoever planned their outfit for a day. _Good Dominant_. Yeah. So much for that. He could do basically nothing to stop Taeyong from getting a potential cold, he clearly remembers it’s just this morning that Taeyong assured him he can go without all those pain-relieving patches.

Jaehyun clenches the end of his sweater angrily. He is all warm and cosy in this thick clothing when Taeyong has to dance in such revealing clothes. He knows how vile the air conditioning can be, plus, Taeyong was already complaining about a sore throat at the beginning of the week. _What kind of a Dominant is he?_   _He cannot even take care of his Submissive._

Obviously sensing the downturn of his lover’s mood, Taeyong tries to placate him by putting Jaehyun’s palm on his thigh. Jaehyun can feel it, right under his skin, the moment Taeyong tenses in split second before relaxing. _This_. A code well rehearsed. Jaehyun knows it, all too familiar. He searches around for Taeyong’s eyes and find his answer right away. So easy. Just like how easy it is for Taeyong to trust Jaehyun.

A squeeze. A shuddering breath is drawn. Taeyong casts his gaze low, and Jaehyun gives another squeeze,  the solid heat that transfers control to Jaehyun’s hand. “You will only dress like this for the stage,” Jaehyun says, voice low and on the edge of commanding (because they’re still out in public, and Taeyong doesn’t always allow Jaehyun to do this).

Not after realizing their band members might or might have not realized something is happening between them. He catches Mark stealing curious glances. Twice.

“Is that clear?”

Taeyong nods. Still not looking at his eyes. His sweet, sweet, precious boy. Wanting nothing but please his Sire. “Yes.”

_Sir_ , is probably on the tip of his tongue, but they can save it for later. Now, Jaehyun is content, thankful, that Taeyong lets him assume some control, even if only this far.

Really, just when he thinks he cannot love him even more.

“Good,” he concludes, letting his satisfaction seep into his voice. Taeyong catches it, and just to make his Hyung feel a little better, just to boost a little of his ego so he can forget his discomfort at Taeyong in this blasted clothing, Jaehyun adds, quiet. “You’re so _good_. You will be good.”

A tap on his knee, a sign. Taeyong looks up, and he smiles so beautifully, positively glowing. It’s an order, and he is more than willing to accept it because Taeyong is a good Sub who thrives at knowing that he’s making his Dominant proud.

Jaehyun would kiss him, but they can save it for later.

:::

Jaehyun leaves the stage with bad mood. Horrible bad mood.

Like; train wreck-horrible bad mood.

It makes Taeyong whimper, internally, with both fear and excitement swirling in his blood. Jaehyun’s mood is already abysmal with the discovery of clothing that Taeyong had to wear, but then Doyoung had done something, namely patting Jaehyun’s ass, then everything went spiralling downhill from there.

“It’s just a harmless pat!” Doyoung tries to defend himself, but it falls on deaf ears. Taeil gives him a sympathetic slap on the back - after being subjected to Jaehyun’s wrath on MAMA, it learly wasn't a pleasant experience. Taeyong would know from the many rows he’d  had with Jaehyun in the past.

Nowadays, Jaehyun’s bad moods means exhilarating, angry fucks, complete with imperious words, and merciless hands.

Nowadays, Jaehyun’s bad moods means Taeyong’s pleasure, and he doesn't exactly hate it. The memory of when Jaehyun literally subjected him to be nothing but a pet after Taeyong’s naughty attempt at teasing him with Johnny is still fresh in his mind.

_Damn_ , he’d love to experience that once again, that heady pleasure that comes with being reduced into Jaehyun’s good, obedient pet.

Usually, this horrendous mood will end with Taeyong being thoroughly, deliciously fucked by his Dom. A firm grip on his throat, a fist around his cock. Unforgiving. He is not to breathe nor to come unltil Jaehyun says so.

The honor of being _owned_ , of belonging to someone who commands his whole being, is what ultimately sends him over the edge. It feels so _good_ , knowing that he’s being good, knowing that he makes his Dom happy by giving him what he wants.

Jaehyun loves control and Taeyong loves giving it to him. He loves how tenderly rough Jaehyun can be with the scepter in his hand. He radiates power, undeniable authority. He is the rule that Taeyong must adhere to and follow. He is the King who governs Taeyong’s every word and action. He is the citadel for Taeyong to seek and find comfort in.

He promises Taeyong protection as much as his overflowing love. Constricting hands around his throat melt into relieving tenderness, rubbing gently against delicate, raw skin. Forceful lips simmer down into affectionate ones, pressing ticklish pecks here and there to elicit giggles from Taeyong’s abused lips.

His gaze, violent hunger of dark brown boiling down into the endless gold of brilliant sun. They gleam, and Taeyong, washed back ashore to Jaehyun’s side from the sea of his sugar-spun pleasure, thinks they look so much like love.

Jaehyun. His Dominant. His lover, murmuring words of appraisal to his sweat-slicked skin. He sounds like love, too, Taeyong smiles, probably dopey as he’s half-conscious most of the time but is aware enough to respond in case Jaehyun _wants_ him to.

The young male wants nothing but to be the best, and Taeyong thinks Jaehyun is the best when he’s being like this; dominant and controlling. Confident. Yet heart-bleedingly tender at the same time.

Behind his brisk pace is concern, as he had made it clear previously that he didn’t like Taeyong wearing these clothes (although Taeyong knew Jaehyun would probably make him wear it again on another occasion) because he’s afraid Taeyong would get sick.

He’s probably been beating himself with guilt for the past twenty minutes, berating himself for letting Taeyong be subjected to such clothing. Taeyong hates it when Jaehyun is not feeling sure with himself: it makes Taeyong feel as if his own world is falling. If someone who compels him into being is uncertain, then what does it make him?

Then Doyoung has to go and pat Jaehyun on the bum, and Jaehyun’s  already ruffled feathers got ruffled even more. He positively glowers at anything in his way, not paying  attention to anyone, including Taeyong, as he rummages through his belongings, accidentally snapping at a clueless Winwin? after Jaehyun accidentally snapped at a clueless Winwin while he rummages through Jaehyun’s? his belongings.

Behind Jaehyun, Taeyong’s? hand firmly grasped in his bigger one, Taeyong sighs. _Really_ , his Dom can be such a baby sometimes.

“Jaehyunnie,” he tries again, giving their linked hands a soft tug. Jaehyun just strode into their dressing room, absolutely ignoring everything, then proceeded to search around in his bag for something. Possibly his shirt. Most probably his shirt - Taeyong can already read his mind.

No imperatives about speaking has been given, so, he assumes it’s fine. Jaehyun’s hum of acknowledgement itself is a green light - he’s not particularly angry about Taeyong speaking, or maybe he’s just too angry at everything else to realize he had missed giving the silence command, because it’s usually the first thing he issued.

“Take it easy, you won’t find anything if you keep-”

“ _Fucking_ there it is,” Jaehyun exclaims with triumph and unnecessary loudness that surprises the people surrounding them, wrenching a black t-shirt from beneath the piles in his bag.

Taeyong curses mentally, about to give them apologetic look, but Jaehyun begins to make more long strides and Taeyong can do nothing but follow, secretly anticipating _what_ Jaehyun would do to him.

He is obviously pissed, it’s impossible not to tell. It sure is gonna be _good_. The last  few times he’d pissed off Jaehyun, he had either ended up on all fours, forbidden to beg, or being made to fuck himself while Jaehyun watched from beyond the glass wall.

This time he’s in a lacey red blouse that won’t stop rubbing against his pebbling nipples.

This will be _good_.

They ended up in the bathroom, again. Jaehyun reminds them that they have a V-Live, and they can’t risk a bruise anywhere on Taeyong’s skin. Revealed skin which means no marking, no biting, and Taeyong laments at the pleasure he has to miss.

_But_ , it doesn’t mean they’re not going to _risk_ doing anything else because Jaehyun is pissed and he keeps on huffing here and there. He needs to let off his steam, and there is no better way of release than a make out session.

Okay, _maybe_ sex is better but angry Jaehyun tends to draw their sex long, but they’re lacking the time now. A really, really quick make out, that’s it. He is already anticipating what Jaehyun will make him do.

A logical part of his mind berates him; _this is just supposed to be him helping you change your clothes because he’s afraid you’ll get sick. This is not supposed to be another make-out session in between your schedules and risking your career_.

Jaehyun opens the door with a bang. He practically growls.

_Damn, is he sexy_. That logical part of Taeyong’s mind retreats back to wherever it came from, even his logic is puny when it comes to Jaehyun being all rough and gruff like this.

Jaehyun locks the door behind them and Taeyong thanks God and all existing deities for making a bathroom always available for them. It must have been _fate_ , nothing more and nothing less.

The space is minimal, cramped. It doesn’t matter, they’re already used to it. Jaehyun closes the toilet lid and Taeyong catches him before he can throw his black t-shirt onto the lid.

“It’s fucking unhygienic, I’m not wearing that,” he swears, snatching the black cloth away from Jaehyun’s grasp and hangs it on the side wall of toilet stall.

Jaehyun smirks down at him, crowding Taeyong against the wall. His hands, now free, occupy themselves on Taeyong’s shoulders, pressing down a little. “Silence, Sub.”

Taeyong shudders, feeling his body going lax at the commanding tone of his Dominant’s voice. _Oh God_ , it feels so good, to have Jaehyun imposing himself on him like this. Taeyong answers with a nod, holding back the affirmative on the tip of his tongue.

“Good boy.” Jaehyun’s hands slide down, lingering playfully around his chest, before continuing their journey downward until they’re on the edge of Taeyong’s pants. Taeyong bites back a moan, his stomach growing taut. Jaehyun is still keeping his distance but even then, Taeyong can already tell how good he smells. “Unbutton it yourself.”

Jaehyun orders, and Taeyong must follow. He nods before doing as he’s told, slowly. His throat goes dry when his Dom suddenly makes an unappreciative comment, hands still on either side of his hips.

“Cut your nails. They’re too long. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

_Hurt himself. Long nails_ . Lord, help him, Taeyong feels the tension building tighter in the pit of his stomach, his cock swelling under his baggy pants. _Just what it is that Jaehyun wants him to do?_

It’s probably later when they’ve got  sufficient time and place, not now, but it’s no less exciting and arousing to know Jaehyun fully intends to have Taeyong finger himself while the young Dom probably sits back on his heels, watching with hunger flickering beneath his citrine eyes.

Despite the trembling of his fingers, Taeyong manages to unbutton his shirt without any trouble. He keeps his gaze downward, feeling his legs growing weaker and weaker upon realizing how close Jaehyun’s face is getting to his neck. _God, he smells so good_.

Jaehyun presses their bodies flush together. This time, Taeyong cannot contain his gasp as he feels Jaehyun’s rock hard cock against his own. _Fuck_ , he wants the garments off, as far as possible from their bodies. He wants to feel Jaehyun skin to skin, wants to feel that heat, wants to get on his knees, prostrate himself before him and let Jaehyun fuck his mouth.

His mouth goes wet, and unconsciously, he ruts against Jaehyun’s heat, desperate for friction. He still smells so fucking good, like wind breeze and a beach afternoon walk. Jaehyun is chuckling by his ear, amused at Taeyong’s despair, but he doesn’t stop him either.

“Sub, we don’t have much time,” no bite, yet, the warning is there. Taeyong stops, feeling both ashamed and disappointed. He went against his Dom’s order, and he will likely be punished, later.

But then Jaehyun slides the red jacket and white shirt off from his shoulders until they’re at his elbows, and then with a calm voice, he orders Taeyong to do something. And Taeyong thinks that maybe he’s getting his punishment earlier than he’d expected.

The black haired male looks at his Dom, mouth tight. Stomach coiling just as tight.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Play with your nipples, now.”

Taeyong stares, still.

Jaehyun doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t roll his eyes, nor does he laugh smugly. Instead, he doesn’t look amused. Impatient, and, _yeah_ , that’s anger right there when he repeats once again. “Your nipples. Now.”

That jerks Taeyong into motion. Quickly, albeit hesitantly, he puts his fingers around his nipples. On top of the fabric. It’s been rubbing against them for awhile, and thanks to that, they’ve been rock hard since long  ago, not to mention with the air conditioner on full blast.

But it’s not cold anymore, it feels impossibly hot in here. All he can smell is Jaehyun, taking over, sending him into overdrive. He bites his bottom lip, a habit more than anything - definitely not teasing, but Jaehyun obviously takes it as such. “Sub,” he warns.

Then, Jaehyun puts his palm on Taeyong’s cheek, rubbing it gently, as opposed to his heated gaze, before his thumb forces its way to Taeyong’s lips, pressing down, hard, until Taeyong opens his mouth, other fingers holding his jaw in place.

Satisfied, Jaehyun smirks. Ignoring how Taeyong has started to salivate and suck his thumb. “Do it.”

Taeyong does. It starts with harmless flick on both, and he whimpers, Jaehyun humming in approval, eyes ablaze with hunger. Encouraged by his Dom’s reaction, Taeyong he starts exploring them, rubbing and pinching his rock hard nipples between his fingers.

With every hard pinch, his breath grows heavier, and so is Jaehyun’s. He’s practically breathing through his nose, eyelids heavy as he watches Taeyong toying with his chest. He is silent and still, one hand holding Taeyong’s jaw in place while the other steadies his hips.

Taeyong closes his eyes, his mouth still kept open by Jaehyun’s firm grip. He must not make a sound, he must commit to it, it’s been Jaehyun’s order. Still, it doesn’t mean it’s not difficult. His nail catches on the fabric, and Taeyong stutters, ending up scratching his nipple. Delicious pleasure runs down his spine, arching his back, Taeyong rubs his knees together in attempt to relieve the building tension in his cock.

It feels _weird_ , having the fabric scratch against his nipples as he abuses them with his own fingers, goaded bolder and bolder by Jaehyun’s quiet, constant appreciative murmurs. They sting hotly, his nipples feel like they’re burning and the cool air isn’t helping but make the burn even worse.

His beloved Dominant, who just said they don’t have time and is now pressing against him closer to keep Taeyong’s legs from collapsing, isn’t helping either.

“You love it, you love this. Look at you, Sub, look at you now,” Jaehyun licks a long stripe on Taeyong’s cheek, then plays around his earlobe. “You love doing this for me while I watch, hmm?”

Taeyong keens, fingers pinching harder on his hardened nubs before pulling them. They sting so bad, so good. But this is what Jaehyun wants him to do; _play_ _with his nipples,_ not sure for how long, probably until Jaehyun is satisfied.

This is his punishment, surely, for not trying hard enough to dissuade the stylist from making him wear this. For making other people see what should belong only to Jaehyun. For not taking care of himself and exposing himself to a potential cold.

Jaehyun releases his jaw, and Taeyong immediately latches his lips onto Jaehyun’s neck, mouthing wetly at the sweaty skin to stifle his moans, especially when Jaehyun’s fingers join his to abuse his chest. Taeyong bucks his hips into Jaehyun’s heat, gasping as he feels Jaehyun pressing hard on his nipples.

Fuck, he is positively over the moon now, Jaehyun’s lips are? slowly making their way down from Taeyong’s face to his neck, alternating between kissing and licking the skin through the red fabric. He continues tormenting Taeyong, both hands now on Taeyong’s chest, massaging and occasionally joining the fun of Taeyong’s tired yet still excited fingers.

It feels so good, Taeyong admits, having Jaehyun and his own fingers like this, it definitely feels good. He knows what his body wants - Jaehyun knows what it wants, too. They’ve spent so much time exploring each other’s bodies, learning their preferences.

Jaehyun also knows that Tayeong loves it when he speaks dirty, and he decides to pamper him by asking, lapping teasingly at the skin around Taeyong’s chest, “tell me who makes you like this. Tell me who makes your nipples like this?”

Taeyong swallows down another moan, and with much difficulty,  manages to push Jaehyun’s face away from his chest. He leans his shoulders on the door, back arching forward, one of Jaehyun’s arms circling around his waist to steady him. The sleeves of his clothes are still bunched on his elbows, sticking uncomfortably against his skin, and his underwear feels equally sticky from his leaking cock.

Jaehyun gives him a confused look that adorably clashes with the ferocious hunger on his face. “Hyung?”

_Cute_ , Taeyong thinks, even like this, even reigning control over Taeyong like this, he is still his cute, cute, adorable Dongsaeng.

He tucks his chin in, splays his palms on his chest, then traps both nipples between his index and middle fingers. Taeyong peeks up at Jaehyun’s face from beneath the heavy curtain of his wet lashes. He takes a deep breath before giving Jaehyun a honest, earnest smile that speaks of his love and euphoria.

“You, Sir. It’s you. Only you, you make me like this. It’s-”

Jaehyun strips him away from the chance to finish his sentence by kissing him, hard, but in contrast to his forceful lips are his hands, carefully cradling Taeyong’s head like he’s handling a diamond.

Taeyong sighs, moans into the kiss. His fingers are about to play again, nipples stinging from being neglected, when Jaehyun’s other hand suddenly pry them away, his mouth making an order in between the kisses.

“On my back, hold me.”

Taeyong smiles, complying with another needy hum as he latches his arms around Jaehyun’s shoulder. Jaehyun makes an appreciative noise with his throat, then begins tracking down the column of Taeyong’s neck to his chest, stopping just above his nipples. The elder’s stomach goes taut once again, he waits with bated breath, Jaehyun’s own tickling his reddening skin.

“Good boy,” Jaehyun mumbles, and that’s the only warning Taeyong gets before Jaehyun starts sucking on his nipple.

_Fuck_ , Taeyong thinks dazedly.

It feels good, _too fucking good_ , Jaehyun’s moist heat, his slick tongue, the cool fabric, all of them are rubbing against his sensitized skin. His nipple stings so much to the point it’s almost painful. Taeyong bites back another moan when Jaehyun suckles hard, making the harsh lace dig into his burning skin.

Jaehyun proceeds to give his other nipple the same ministration, and Taeyong is already teetering in between, about to be swept offshore into the sea of mindless ecstasy. The only thing keeping his feet on the dry sand is Jaehyun’s protective arms around his waist and his yet incoming command.

“They’re so red,” Jaehyun breathes out, a hint of wonder in his voice. Taeyong looks down to find him staring, mesmerized, at Taeyong’s chest. “Hyung, you are-”

“Hyunnie,” Taeyong cuts him off, mind still far from clarity, voice raspy. He knows they’re supposedly still in the scene and he’s not allowed to speak, but he cannot help it, not when he sees how young Jaehyun looks with such wonder on his face.

Thankfully, Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, blinking his warm, honeyed-gold eyes curiously. “Yes, Hyung?”

Taeyong smiles, soft, then gently with boneless, languid hands, he cradles Jaehyun’s head softly, tugging it until his chin is almost resting on his chest. “They’re for you.”

Taeyong really, _really_ wishes they don’t have a V-live to catch. He also starts doubting his decision to promise to take off this lacey blouse in favor of a T-shirt, just to make his worrywart of loving Dom happy, when the said Dom (who’s actually just a huge baby in disguise) starts kissing the life out of him. Loving. Tender.

He should just keep these clothes on until they’re home so he doesn’t have to have this stolen moment in between to change his clothes, which ultimately ended up with them having to stall their releases until later, once they have the luxury called time.

Well, what they cannot have now, they can surely have later. “I‘m taking this piece of shit home,” Jaehyun huffs, mouthing along the collar of the said ‘piece of shit’.

“Mm-hmm, we’re so taking it home,” Taeyong agrees, pressing a kiss to the side of Jaehyun’s temple. “We’re _so_ taking it home.”

They exchange a couple of slow, languorous kisses before Jaehyun calls it a quit, ending it with a long, sweet kiss that lingers on Taeyong’s lips. The elder is left in daze as Jaehyun works to undress him completely, letting Jaehyun move him around as he works getting Taeyong out of his clothes. “Hold this,” he says - _orders_ \- and Taeyong complies wordlessly.

Jaehyun takes off the t-shirt from the hanger, has Taeyong hold it again as he takes off the others, then hangs them on the same hanger. Taeyong is still pretty much staying adrift, watching his Dom working from above the hazy clouds of languid euphoria.

Realizing he’s being watched, Jaehyun chuckles. He takes off the t-shirt from Taeyong’s hold, then says,. “Hands on the air, Taeyongie.”

Taeyong nods, heart fluttering at the endearing smile on Jaehyun’s face. Like a child, he lets himself being dressed, internally preening when Jaehyun coos over him. The shirt hangs loose on his smaller frame, the sleeves reach as far as his elbows, extending a little below.

“Good?” Jaehyun inquires, smoothing invisible crease along his shoulder.

“Eu- _ung!”_ suddenly, Taeyong hisses, drawing himself back. Worry paints itself across Jaehyun’s skin, a protective arm instinctively loop around his lover’s slim waist.

“Taeyongie? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Taeyong bites his bottom lips, cheeks reddening. Admittedly, this is a little embarrassing. “It’s okay. It’s just, umm.” And is difficult to talk about. _Fuck_ , after what Jaehyun had made him do, he thought he no longer remember what shame feels like.

“Hyung?” Jaehyun presses on, brows creased in genuine concern. “Just what?”

He could have used his commanding tone, it would be easier for Taeyong to talk then. But Jaehyun doesn’t, because he is _just_ Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun who loves him unconditionally, who thinks of his health more than anyone else, Dom or not. And for this Jaehyun, Taeyong fights back against his embarrassment. “Ahh, just, the shirt. You know. It’s rubbing against-”

“ _Oh_.”

Taeyong doesn’t know whether he should laugh or hide. He prefers the former upon seeing the funny look on Jaehyun’s face. “Yeah; _oh_.”

“Umm,” Jaehyun ducks his head, unconsciously drawing Taeyong’s body closer to him. Taeyong lets him, sighing at the inviting heat. “I’m _sorry_?”

“Don’t be,” he cups Jaehyun’s cheeks, motioning him to look at him, and looks up Jaehyun does. His eyes, Taeyong swears, are the most guilty of it all.

They’re honest, always so and too honest. Always speak of words that Jaehyun’s mouth couldn’t utter. Always express his heart more accurately than his words could ever do. Right now, they’re telling Taeyong things, so many things like passion, gratitude, apology. Like love. And Jaehyun is indeed, looking like love when he’s like this; face flushed and eyes tender, gazing straight deep into Taeyong’s eyes.

“Don’t be,” he could only repeat, mesmerized at the sincere affection those pair of gleaming honey radiate. “I like it,” he stops, breathless. “I like - _love_ \- it, maybe we can do it another time. The blouse. We’re taking it home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, so. Don’t be. Sorry. I mean-”

“Taeyongie.”

Taeyong feels his own cheeks heating up, he swallows. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

_Do you really need to ask_ ? was what crossed his mind upon hearing the question, but he’s still too short-winded by the gravity of Jaehyun’s emotion to speak anything decent. He gives his answer in a form of another mute nod, and he thinks he’s positively _dying_ when Jaehyun smiles; sweet and shy.

He probably should have remind Jaehyun that they have a V-live to record in just matter of minutes, he considers bringing nagging Doyoung but then he realizes it’ll be counter-productive as Jaehyun is probably still feeling annoyed at their lead vocalist.

All thoughts are shoved to the back of his mind upon feeling Jaehyun’s lips descending on his own. _Later._ He can think later. The kiss won’t be long, it’s just one of those finishing kisses that Jaehyun likes to give him before really ending things. It’s incredibly soft, a sweet, chaste press of lips against lips.

Taeyong’s heart flutters, feeling Jaehyun’s lips blossom into a smile. “Taeyongie.”

“Eung?” His chest still stings, but he will _wear_ it with pride. Another thing Jaehyun has branded him with. He feels safe. Content. Protected.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, short and simple. Honest. True. Like moon wanes and waxes. Like tides rising and falling. Like love. Like them. “Don’t get sick.”

With a smile, he mouths his answer on Jaehyun’s lips. “Love you too, Jaehyunnie.”

Loved. Taeyong feels loved. His heart sears. His mind sings, of sunshine dancing on sparkling water. Of joy and spun-sugar delight. He hopes, as Jaehyun repeats the words over and over again, that this happiness will last forever.


End file.
